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translunartl.bsky.social
Translunar Travelers Lounge
@translunartl.bsky.social
2.1K followers 110 following 140 posts
Stop by for a sip of fun. Stay as long as you want; enjoy the view. Edited by Bennett North, Priya Sridhar and Hannya Kay https://translunartravelerslounge.com/
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It's Day 9 of our retrospective and here's The Nadaists by F Malonche in which M-360 must sacrifice something she loves - yet in the austere space habitat the Nadaists live on, what is there to give Lord Otorongo?
“Long ago, we used to live in great despair. People argued about everything from politics to words.” He pointed to the image in the center, an assortment of dark shadows congregating under a red sky. “From this, we formed our faith, the Nadaists, to combat those who cared too much.” He pointed to the image on the left of a jaguar among the stars. “We went in search of Lord Otorongo, so we may feed him that which may be of too much significance.” The Nadaists F Malonche
November 25, 2025 at 12:30 PM
translunartl.bsky.social
On Day 8 of TTL's look back at our legendary 2025 lineup it's 12 Things No One Will Tell You About Being A Demigod by @danaiwrites.bsky.social with a look at the labours, the myths, the pain and the tragedy - and perhaps we'll even learn whose fault this all is.
Being a demigod is very taxing for the psyche. You end up seeing things that aren’t there, killing things that aren’t there. Shh, it’s okay; it wasn’t your fault. Step away from the corpses of your children now; let the oracles sanitize the blood and get you ready for atonement. Your penance will take place in ten steps, and last ten years, although because humans like the number twelve best and kings like free labor most, there might be a few extras thrown in. Most in my line of work believe that this is a process you must embark on blind, for the atonement to matter. I disagree. Here’s what I think you need to know about what’s coming: 12 Things No One Will Tell You About Being A Demigod Danai Christopoulou
November 24, 2025 at 12:39 PM
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It's Day 7 of our 2025 retrospective here in the lounge and we've got Build Your Own Heart by @risawolf.bsky.social in which the Cheropan, having learned that the afterlife requires empathy, goes to Earth to find itself a heart.
One day, after several million turnings of the universe, the Afterlife’s Glorious Hospitality Crew’s traditional millenia-end satisfaction survey revealed disturbing news: they were considered rather anachronistic when greeting newcomers. The angels were informed that they must be more empathetic, but there were no tomes in the Heavenly Library that could teach such a skill. Build Your Own Heart Risa Wolf
November 23, 2025 at 12:39 PM
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It's Day 6 of the TTL's re-read experience and we've got @mynachang.bsky.social with Graduated Justice: An Amelia Li Mystery, in which Detective Li and her prosthetic leg investigate an accident on a spaceship - one that cuts a little too close to corporate interests.
“Sorry, Detective Li, but… Your leg doesn’t really talk, does it? That’s just an old precinct legend?” Rookies always ask about it, eventually, but they usually avoid the “old” word. I eased into my chair and spread a thin layer of gel around the bioplastic shin casing. “First, my leg has a name. It’s Charlie. Got him after a smuggling bust went sideways, probably before you were born.” Graduated Justice: An Amelia Li Mystery Myna Chang
November 22, 2025 at 12:46 PM
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Day 5 of our 2025 (re-)reading takes us to The PenWielder by @adityaswrites.bsky.social ; In a city under siege by the warkeys, a pensmith must defy his brother to bring a new type of pen to the battle.
Chakra had learned to grow up with the image of Mother’s final moments burned into the back of his eyelids as his punishment, reliving her death each time he blinked or when he tried to sleep. The tapping, though. It gnawed at his sanity from the deep burrows in his ears. Twenty summers had passed, and he still questioned why the warkeys left him with their haunting metronome. Father, in his dying breath, named Dharma the next PenWielder, and Chakra had accepted it. Foregoing his birthright was what he deserved for leading Mother to her grave. Instead, he honed his skills to become Master Pensmith under Grandfather’s training. The Pen Wielder Aditya Sundararajan
November 21, 2025 at 10:48 AM
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Day 4 of TTL's look back, and @bethgoder.bsky.social takes us to look at a space sunflower, following which she takes us to look at a space sunflower, following which she takes us to look at a space sunflower, following which she takes us to look at a space sunflower, following which she takes us to
I’m riding through space on my bike (as one does) when I see this enormous sunflower. Its crimson-dipped petals are wider than my body, its stem ten times longer than my bike. The sunflower shimmers golden, turning its head toward this system’s bright star. I call my chrono-app into my vision. I’m not supposed to meet with my college advisor for another four hours. I’ve got time. It’s me, so of course I’m going to pedal closer to the sunflower, this glimmering wonder. Sunflower Loop Beth Goder
November 20, 2025 at 1:23 PM
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It's Day Three of the TTL 2025 celebration and here's @montelin.bsky.social with The In-Between Sister, a story of haunting, possession - and the relationships between elder and younger sisters.
June’s missing and no one seems to care. No police report, no missing persons search, nothing. It’s been three months and her school should have sent a letter: a call, even. Mama and Baba haven’t noticed either. No one seems even curious why June hasn’t called, emailed, or even sent a letter. No one seems to know she’s missing except me. The In-Between Sister Monte Lin
November 19, 2025 at 1:28 PM
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Day Two of TTLs 2025 (re-)reading and it's Fighting Fire by Victoria Chvatal, in which the Crazy Goat Lady's flock comes in hand when fire threatens the village granary.
The grassfire crept towards the granary. This one was worse than most; it got so big that the whole village together could do nothing but watch. Everyone’s grain, a whole year’s worth—for eating and for selling both—was about to go up in flames. That’s when Crazy Goat Lady showed up with her small flock of sheep. Yeah, she has sheep too, not just goats—the weirdest-looking sheep you ever saw, with a sort of black mask on their faces and rough wool in streaks of white and rusty red. No-one I know has seen the like, or knows where they came from. But sheep are just something she keeps; it’s goats she’s cuckoo about. Fighting Fire Victoria Chvatal
November 18, 2025 at 12:35 PM
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Day one of the TTL end of year reading starts with They Take You As They Find You by @lynorlane.bsky.social. Four youngsters and a non-talking animal in a van, looking into mysteries. Sound familiar? But this story has something different to say about monsters.
Beneath the table, a quiet snarl suggested that Scratcher would object to being dragged away from her stack of burgers, and the final person at the table—a pale, young woman with smudgy black circles beneath her eyes—said, “I’m with Scratcher. Can’t we just take it easy for a bit? That last case nearly killed me.” They Take You As They Find You Lane Robins
November 17, 2025 at 12:44 PM
translunartl.bsky.social
Good morning! Announcing the Translunar Travelers Lounge 2025 catch-up reading party. This year we published two issues each with fourteen stories, and we've decided celebrate them all over again. We'll be making a post for one story every day, and invite everyone to (re-)read and talk about them!
A red and white diagonally striped poster with the Translunar Travelers Lounge logo, a stylised moon with the name on it, in the top left, the covers to Issue 13 and Issue 12 in the bottom half. On it is written Translunar Travelers Lounge 2025 End Of Year Catch Up Reading party! 28 Days! 28 Stories! A celebration of everything we've published this year
November 16, 2025 at 11:04 AM
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Blessed Are The Worms And So Am I by Michelle Carrera in which Filomena of the chapel of perpetual decomposition finds herself at odds with the Church of Preservation in how to deal with change and grief translunartravelerslounge.com/2025/08/15/b...
Filomena was reorganizing their sacral organ drawer— pancreas, missing; gallbladder, sulking in a jar labeled Do Not Open Until the Moon Dies— when the door creaked. Not the good kind of creak. Not the sweet, fungal stretch of wood swelling with memory. No. This was a Windexed creak. Sterile. Shiny. Squeaky in the soul. They turned. And there she was. Reverend Purity of the Church of Preservation, dressed in bleach-white and carrying the scent of fear disguised as floral. Blessed Are The Worms And So Am I Michelle Carrera
September 4, 2025 at 11:46 AM
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Watermen by @kayv.bsky.social in which a young waterman, growing up by the bay, finds human life encroaching despite the harsh rule of King Malcolm. translunartravelerslounge.com/2025/08/15/w...
Every year the mudflats get bigger. I smell Smith and Tangier Islands in the silt, lands slowly pulled apart to our south like confetti in a palm—the currents blow. The elders like the mudflat. It helps them ease their way out of the water when the sun rises, as the bones in their tails writhe and pop and snap back into the shape of legs. I don’t need a mudflat. I drag myself up into the reeds, hands turned inward like club feet. My bones are young. It doesn’t take long to be human again. In the double-wide on shore, I kiss King Malcolm on his middle knuckle and my mother tells me, “Have a good day at school.” Watermen Kay Vaindal
September 3, 2025 at 12:05 PM
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Fall, Wake, Run by Claire McNerny, in which Loam has stolen a necklace from the bandit Monsoon, runs and falls off the cliff - again and again and again - until she tries talking to her pursuer. translunartravelerslounge.com/2025/08/15/f...
In a few minutes, I will lose my handle on the rock, or else it will slip out from under me, or else the Bandit Monsoon and her horse will kick me off of it, or else one of her toughies will blast it with a gun, or with a spark of something tougher than guns. Magic, grit. No matter what shakes me, it will shake me, and I will tumble, free-falling for just long enough to wonder if this will be the last time. Then I will wake up at the campsite to the sound of horses in the distance, scramble to my feet, and start running all over again. Every time, I think this will be the time they don’t get me. Fall, Wake, Run Calire McNerny
September 2, 2025 at 11:11 AM
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Wolfmothers by Rukman Ragas a story of Angrboða, mother of the monster-brood, and seeking companionship after the downfall of Loki translunartravelerslounge.com/2025/08/15/w...
A woman, a warrior, kneels beside him, garbed in white clothes of a priestess, holding up her bowl as if it’s a sword, waiting for the inevitable spillover as it passes through her hands, burning lines that had never existed before. He screams, the earth shudders, great bellows, and you almost fall. But she moves with practised precision, emptying poison and holding the bowl up again. There’s no gentleness, no motion wasted. She turns her attention to you, deep-set eyes red and calm. She called and you answered and now you crawl. Wolfmothers Rukman Ragas
September 1, 2025 at 12:23 PM
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Home Is Where The Heart Rests by Chidera Anikpe, a story of a child who is born, from unity, from the void, from divinity, who always chooses to leave, who is, in the end, human. translunartravelerslounge.com/2025/08/15/h...
If Nnedi tells this story, she will paint you into a god; she will line your skin with gold and lace your words with sonorous beauty. Your hair will morph from its original, mundane afro into a crown of obsidian cloud. Your eyes, naturally wide and flattering, will transform into alluring orbs of fiery intelligence. She will call your name–Obiajulu–with the same reverence with which she says ‘Jesus’ during nightly vigils. The air around you will be colored by an aura of beauty and brilliance and your smile will rival the iridescence of a thousand suns. You will become, at least until she is done with her tale, a celestial thing. Home Is Where The Heart Rests Chidera Anikpe
August 31, 2025 at 10:41 AM
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Deliverance by @esichr.bsky.social a story about the end times, of heaven coming down from it's hiding place in the moon, and how terrible and sordid that is. translunartravelerslounge.com/2025/08/15/d...
Sometimes I try to imagine what she would say if she knew that the ‘blessed day’ would involve airborne gold spores eating through the throats of the elderly, or that pearly gates the size of semi-trailer trucks would spin across states with the fury of tornadoes, or that apples would stop rotting, no matter where you buried them. Tonight the sky is obfuscated; ornery, perhaps, at the increased amount of observation it’s received over the past eighteen months. The gold triangle is still visible, hovering above the Earth like breath on frosted glass. I wonder if any of my friends across the country are seeing the same view and sending end-of-the-world wishes towards me. Deliverance Elena Sichrovsky
August 30, 2025 at 2:35 PM
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When You Seek A Dragon by @kaunvijaya.bsky.social , in which three people seek a dragon though only one will be satisfied. translunartravelerslounge.com/2025/08/15/w...
At first, there is an ancient silence, for here, the world has been unchanged for millennia. Then the ground beneath his feet shivers and rumbles and a beast snakes its head out of the darkness. It is taller than he had imagined. It is angrier than he had imagined. It looms over him and watches, breath unfurling hot and blistering over his skin. “Return to your home, boy, and leave me to mine.” When You Seek A Dragon by Vijayalaxmi Samal
August 29, 2025 at 10:45 AM
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The Last Wills And Testaments Of Captain Kohle by @bingingout.bsky.social in which Captain Kohle is summoned from the afterlife - again and again until we learn the truth of his death translunartravelerslounge.com/2025/08/15/t...
“What year is it?” I ask Whitney, whose once-fiery muttonchops are now a dry gray. “Seventeen-twenty-three, Captain,” Whitney replies. “Uh— does that still hurt?” Looking down, I notice that my shot-riddled chest still drips, staining the deck below. It does still sting, but not in the way he means. “What do you want?” The Last Wills And Testaments Of Captain Kohle Abhijeet Sathe
August 28, 2025 at 11:44 AM
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A Twist Of Nothing by @dalesmithonline.com in which the Michelson-Morley result, Wheeler's one-electron universe, and the timeless implications of them are a slight comfort (also everything is created) translunartravelerslounge.com/2025/08/15/a...
Weeks of careful work, diligently working out the slightest variations in the speed of the light dancing across the sandstone. Weeks more, because this failure was so carefully constructed that it required the Earth itself to move and dance through the stars. They could see, these great men, how those next weeks would go. The same pains taken, the same precise care, the same results time after time. Failure. Devastating, career-making failure. The results declined to prove the hypothesis. The light’s speed around the apparatus refused to vary, not by the tiniest of fractions. A Twist Of Nothing Dale Smith
August 27, 2025 at 8:46 AM
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The Way You Talk About Your Life by Camille Koob, a story of a man who does not believe in oracles, who nevertheless must consult one. translunartravelerslounge.com/2025/08/15/t...
“The rituals we perform during the week are almost identical to those related to the original oracle, the original Pythia. She claimed her prophecies were inspired by a god. This was a very long time ago on the Original Planet. Performing them today underlines the long-standing tradition of oracular prophecy throughout human history. It makes visitors’ experiences more meaningful.” Contrary to what the people at dinner last night believed, Aratus has spent a long time researching and thinking about Pythia, the oracle, its history. You have to understand something well to disagree with it. The Way You Talk About Your Life Camille Koob
August 26, 2025 at 11:28 AM
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Fire Dust by Rose Strickman in which the Phoenix returns to Heliopolis, and the dust from it's wings promises healing - yet Neferet is not ready to give up her grief
translunartravelerslounge.com/2025/08/15/f...
On a day hot and dry as fire, a star appeared in the southern sky, a dot of red-gold that drew closer and closer. By the time evening fell, the Phoenix had arrived. Horns and drums sounded once more, temple dancers raised their sistra in praise, incense smoke cloaked the altars of Ra, and thousands ran to view the mystical bird, perched on one of Pharaoh’s obelisks. The entire city—nay, the kingdom—was ecstatic with joy and awe. Except one. Fire Dust Rose Strickman
August 25, 2025 at 9:43 AM
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Vengeance As Sweet As My Love by @mythopoetica.bsky.social in which a water demon, trying to be human, loses everything to a cyborg rival translunartravelerslounge.com/2025/08/15/v...
My love is in every body of water taunting me from puberty till the day I embraced my heritage and succumbed to the imperatives of my lack of humanity. I am consumed by my love, and by my hunger for love. The blood of puaka air infests my veins. Puaka air who lurk in pools that sprawl across abandoned tin mines. Puaka air, whose spectral limbs and corporeal hunger taint both folklore and the dreams of fishermen. Puaka air, who create widows out of wives and steal their children for dinner. Those water-demons who whisper songs to bedevil your mind when you are wading in the South China Sea, dragging you into the deeps to feast upon your entrails and the spore of your disappointments. Vengeance as Sweet as My Love, by Anita Harris Satkunananthan
August 24, 2025 at 10:53 AM
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Real Housewives Of The Intergalactic by H J Ramsey is a story of responsibility, men in black, motherhood, and looking after strange babies.
translunartravelerslounge.com/2025/08/15/r...
She—because I got she vibes—carried something in her arms. She sent me another picture-feeling, this time of my children but also not my children, and I knew what she was holding. I stepped out of the van, not even thinking about it. Before kids, I probably would’ve slammed on the gas, dialed 911—did literally anything else—but since kids, the idea of self-preservation disappeared along with my waistline. Real Housewives Of The Intergalactic by H J Ramsey
August 23, 2025 at 9:51 AM
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Yarn As Warm As Dragon's Breath by Amanda Saville is A story of living with grief - and also living with a dragon.
translunartravelerslounge.com/2025/08/15/y...
A sound not unlike a retching car engine startled Lily out of staring at her steeping ramen. She got to the living room just in time to see the dragon heave a ball of flaming hamburger onto the rug. “Assbuckets!” Yarn As Warm As Dragon's Breath Amanda Saville
August 22, 2025 at 1:41 PM
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The new issue of Translunar Travelers Lounge is live, issue number lucky 13 for August 2025 with 14 brand new stories
Cover of Issue 13 of Translunar Travelers Lunge for Issue 13 August 2025. People are being sucked upwards in a collapsing city. The author's names are Chidera Anikpe, Michelle Carrera, Camille Koob, Clair McNerney, Rukman Ragas, HJ Ramsey, Vijayalaxmi Samal, Abhijeet Sathe, Anita Harris Satkunananthan, Amanda Saville, Elena Sichrovsky, Dale Smith, Rose Strickman, Kay Vaindal. Edited by Bennet North, Priya Sridhar and Hannya Kay
August 16, 2025 at 11:02 AM